


010 - Welcome Home

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 13:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17468744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Van's home from tour. You missed him.





	010 - Welcome Home

Van had been gone for almost two months, and the ache for him was palpable. The lead up to his homecoming made missing him worse. You couldn't sleep at night, and you weren't really hungry much. You knew that Van was the same. Larry said Van would be weirdly moody in the last week of the tour. Whenever he finally got home it would be intense for the first week, too. You'd hardly see other people, and the whole notion of returning sleep and eating patterns to normal was a joke.

Van was due to fly in around midday the next day, and you could feel your skin crawling in anticipation. You had a new tactic - stay up the night before so that you could actually sleep on the eve of his return. So, 11pm and you were in bed.

The sleep was broken, but it was there. The dreams were vivid and you could almost feel the weight of Van on top of you. You could almost smell his hair washed with hotel brand shampoo. Except, you really could. Suddenly, your body exploded into action and you wrapped your legs around his waist and held him with one arm, hand scrunching his tshirt and not letting go. Your other hand went immediately for the hair, and you pulled hard, bringing his head next to yours in a violent hug.

Van was really very there and really very real. You could hear him softly chuckle at the intensity of your reaction. He was trying to put his weight on the side that wasn't on top of you, so you were not crushed, but that's what you wanted. You pulled harder, until you couldn't breathe between him and the blankets and the love. Then, there were fingers around your jaw, pulling your head away from where it was tucked into his chest, his collarbone. The air was cooler and you could see his face for the first time. When did he turn the lamp on? When did he get here?

You kissed and it fixed everything. His lips were rough, which always happened when he toured because you're not there to put chapstick on him. Your lips parted and his tongue rolled over yours and it felt warm and like yours. Ownership. The kiss was messy and when you pulled apart for air he said, "Hi" with a laugh.

"What-when-I…"

"There was an earlier flight, so I took it."

You nodded, and couldn't verbalise what it meant to you that he'd skip the end of tour party to be with you for a couple extra hours. Hours with Van blurred the science of time and space. They could feel like seconds moving too quickly, or they could feel like days stretched out, or both at once.

Van pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room, then did the same with yours. He started the tease. His tongue licking over your nipples, his hand twisting its way into your underwear. It wasn't enough though. You didn't want the build-up. You'd been stuck with that for months alone. You just wanted him, completely.

You bucked your hips up and made a sound of protest. He looked at you, his head titled on the side like a confused puppy. He leant in and rubbed his nose against yours in an eskimo kiss. You whined.

"Noooooo, Van, I want… Now… Please?" you didn't mean it to come out as a beg, but there it was. You were never ashamed about anything with Van though. He treated every sound you made, every request, every movement as gold in action. You were human perfection and there wasn't a Goddamn thing you could do that wouldn't make him smile and fall more in love.

He held your hips and moved you to be aligned with him. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it up and over his shoulder. He so understood what you were about. You were already wet enough that when he pressed into you, it was seamless. The moan you let out was from somewhere in you that you didn't know existed before Van. Before Van… like whatever that was even mattered.

He knew the angle to hit that made it feel like he was touching your internal organs, which was kind of fucked up and you loved it. The pace was perfect and you could feel your tummy and your breasts bounce with the movement. Even better than not being self-conscious about that was knowing that it was one of Van's favourite things about sex with you.

You wanted to last longer but you could feel the orgasm building. Van made a guttural "Fuck," and pressed his face into the nook between your neck and shoulder. You could feel his lips switch between kisses and mumbling your name. You wish you could describe the orgasm as pretty, as a warm blooming feeling coming from the same place in you as love came from, but it wasn't like that. It was animal and it was messy. You dug your nails into Van's back and your toes curled up painfully. The tension was at its peak and there were those magical few seconds of nothing - the little death, or whatever the cliché is - then there was the explosion.

You could feel the warm wetness pour out and down around you onto the bed. Another thing you didn't know about yourself until Van, that. You felt Van cum hard into you, spilling out onto your thighs. He collapsed onto you, pushing the last breath out of your lungs. Luckily the lungs are controlled by the autonomic nervous system. It meant that you didn't need to consciously think about filling them with air again. 

You stayed motionless until both of your breathing became synchronised and normal. Van started to play with your hair. You ran a finger from the top of his head, along the bridge of his nose, past his chin, all the way to his belly button, which you pressed with a "Boop" sound. He laughed and pulled you closer.


End file.
